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lANAL 


EMINISCENCES: 


Recollections  of  Travel  in  the  Old  Days 


ON    THE 


James  River  &  Kanawha  Canal. 


BY 

GEORGE    W.    BAGBY. 


RICHMOND  : 

West,  Johnston  &  Co.,  Publishers. 
1879. 


Copyright  Secured. 


Printed  by 

Whittet  &"  Shepperson, 

Richmond,    Va. 


LIBRARY  UNIV.  Of 
NORTH  CAROLINA 


Preface. 


My  first  thought  was  to  print  these  reminiscences 
in  a  newspaper.  But  our  papers  are  unable  to  pay 
for  contributions.  It  was  not  so  in  the  former  days. 
"Well  do  I  remember  when  the  Dispatch  cheerfully 
gave  me  its  dollars,  not  merely  for  stories  and 
sketches,  but  for  trifles  like  the  "  Weekly  Eekord 
uv  amewsments"  which  I  then  kept,  and  which 
seemed  to  please  our  good  people  of  Richmond,  who 
were  then  doing  so  well  in  business  that  they  were 
easily  pleased.  And  truly  in  those  times  they  were 
a  liberal,  open-hearted  set.  So  would  they  be  now 
were  they  able. 

Will  we  ever  see  good  times  and  plenty  of  money 
again  ?  I  think  so.  And  yet  often  I  get  very  blue, 
apprehending  still  greater  business  troubles,  culmi- 


4  Preface. 

nating  in  I  know  not  what  of  civil  disaster.  It  is 
touching  to  me,  going  around,,  as  I  have  had  to  do  a 
great  deal  of  late,  among  our  business  men,  to  see 
,  their  sad  faces,  and  yet  their  evident  anxiety  in  the 
midst  of  worries  and  cares,  to  help  one  who  is  even 
worse  off  than  themselves.  We  have  good  stock 
here — men  who  would  honor  any  city  in  the  land, 
and  who  make  up  a  community  in  which  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  live.  Here  and  there  you  find  one,  two, 
or  three  close-fisted  fellows,  who  dodge  you  for  fear 
you  'will  ask  them  for  something.  That  is  to  their 
credit,  for  it  shows  that  they|have  feeling  and  a  sense 
of  shame.  And  again  you  meet  positive  brutes,  who 
are  not  merely  stingy  and  mean,  but  ill-mannered 
and  under-bred  to  boot.  But  these  serve  as  foils  to 
set  off  their  better  brethren  to  more  advantage ;  and 
I,  for  one,  am  not  the  man  to  abuse  stingy  people. 
They  have  one  magnificent  trait  to  counterpoise 
their  littleness — they  pay  their  debts,  and  pay  them 
promptly.     So,  take  it  all  in  all,  Richmond  is  about 


Preface. 


as  good  a  place  to  live  in  as  a  man  will  find  on  this 
globe,  as  I  have  learned  by  playing  book-canvasser, 
— an  excellent  school  for  the  study  of  men. 

But  shall  we  see  better  times  ?  Why,  yes,  surely. 
They  have  begun  already  in  Troy,  N..Y.,  the  papers 
say.  And  I  verily  believe  the  railway,  which  is  to 
take  the  place  of  the  canal,  will  do  more  than  all 
things  else  to  bring  back  work  for  all  and  money 
for  all  of  us  in  our  fair  city  of  Richmond.  Let  us 
at  least  hope  so.  And  with  that  hope  in  view,  I 
trust  that  these  reminiscences  of  an  obsolescent  mode 
of  travel — which  may  have  been  delightful,  but  cer- 
tainly was  not  rapid— will  give  a  few  moments  of 
pleasure  to  the  friends  of  the  publishers  and  of  the 
writer. 

G.  W.  B. 


Canal  Reminiscences. 


AMONG  my  earliest  recollections  is  a  trip  from 
Cumberland  County  to  Lynchburg,  in  1835,  or 
thereabouts.  As  the  stage  approached  Glover's 
tavern  in  Appomattox  county,  sounds  as  of  a  can- 
nonade aroused  my  childish  curiosity  to  a  high  pitch. 
I  had  been  reading  Parley's  History  of  America,  and 
this  must  be  the  noise  of  actual  battle.  Yes  ;  the  war 
against  the  hateful  Britishers  must  have  broken  out 
again.  Would  the  stage  carry  us  within  range  of  the 
cannon  balls  %  Yes,  and  presently  the  red-coats  would 
come  swarming  out  of  the  woods.  And — and — Gen. 
Washington  was  dead;  I  was  certain  of  that;  what 
would  become  of  us?  I  was  terribly  excited,  but 
afraid   to   ask   questions.      Perhaps   I  was  scared. 


8  Canal  Reminiscences. 

Would  they  kill  an  unarmed  boy,  sitting  peacably 
in  a  stage  coach  ?  Of  course  they  would ;  Britishers 
will  do  anything !  Then  they  will  have  to  shoot  a 
couple  of  men  first ; — and  I  squeezed  still  closer  be- 
tween them. 

My  relief  and  my  disappointment  were  equally 
great,  when  a  casual  remark  unfolded  the  fact  that  the 
noise  which  so  excited  me  was  only  the  "blasting  of 
rock  on  the  Jeems  and  Kanawha  Canell."  What  was 
"blasting  of  rock?" 

What  was  a  "canell?"  and,  above  all,  what  man- 
ner of  thing  was  a  "Jeems  and  Kanawha  Canell?" 
Was  it  alive? 

I  think  it  was ;  more  alive  than  it  has  ever  been 
since,  except  for  the  first  few  years  after  it  was  opened. 

Those  were  the  "good  old  days"  of  batteaux, — 
picturesque  craft  that  charmed  my  young  eyes  more 
than  all  the  gondolas  of  Yenice  would  do  now.  Truey 
they  consumed  a  week  in  getting  from  Lynchburg  to 
Richmond,  and  ten  days  in  returning  against  the 


Canal  Reminiscences.  9 

stream,  but  what  of  that  ?  Time  was  abundant  in  those 
days.  It  was  made  for  slaves,  and  we  had  the  slaves.  A 
batteau  on  the  water  was  more  than  a  match  for  the 
best  four  or  six  horse  bell-team  that  ever  rolled  over 
the  red  clay  of  Bedford,  brindle  dog  and  tar-bucket 
included. 

Fleets  of  these  batteaux  used  to  be  moored  on  the 
river  bank  near  where  the  depot  of  the  Virginia  and 
Tennessee  Railroad  now  stands ;  and  many  years  after 
the  "  Jeems  and  Kanawha"  was  finished,  one  of  them 
used  to  haunt  the  mouth  of  Blackwater  creek  above 
the  toll- bridge,  a  relic  of  departed  glory.  For  if 
ever  man  gloried  in  his  calling, — the  negro  batteau- 
man  was  that  man.  His  was  a  hardy  calling,  de- 
manding skill,  courage  and  strength  in  a  high  degree. 
I  can  see  him  now  striding  the  plank  that  ran  along 
the  gunwale  to  afford  him  footing,  his  long  iron-shod 
pole  trailing  in  the  water  behind  him.  E"ow  he  turns, 
and  after  one  or  two  ineffectual  efforts  to  get  his  pole 
fixed  in  the  rocky  bottom  of  the  river,  secures  his 


10  Canal  Reminiscences. 

purchase,  adjusts  the  upper  part  of  the  pole  to  the  pad 
at  his  shoulder,  bends  to  his  task,  and  the  long, 
but  not  ungraceful  bark  mounts  the  rapids  like 
a  sea-bird  breasting  the  storm.  His  companion 
on  the  other  side  plies  the  pole  with  equal  ardor, 
and  between  the  two  the  boat  bravely  surmounts  every 
obstacle,  be  it  rocks,  rapids,  quicksands,  hammocks, 
what  not.  A  third  negro  at  the  stern  held  the 
mighty  oar  that  served  as  a  rudder.  A  stalwart, 
jolly,  courageous  set  they  were,  plying  the  pole  all 
day,  hauling  in  to  shore  at  night  under  the  friendly 
shade  of  a  mighty  sycamore,  to  rest,  to  eat,  to  play 
the  banjo,  and  to  snatch  a  few  hours  of  profound, 
blissful  sleep. 

The  up-eargo,  consisting  of  sacks  of  salt,  bags  of 
coffee,  barrels  of  sugar,  molasses  and  whiskey,  af- 
forded good  pickings.  These  sturdy  fellows  lived 
well,  I  promise  you,  and  if  they  stole  a  little,  why, 
what  was  their  petty  thieving  compared  to  the  enor- 
mous pillage  of  the  modern  sugar  refiner  and  the 


Canal  Reminiscences.  11 

crooked-whiskey  distiller?  They  lived  well.  Their 
cook's  galley  was  a  little  dirt  thrown  between  the 
ribs  of  the  boat  at  the  stern,  with  an  awning  on  oc- 
casion to  keep  off  the  rain,  and  what  they  didn't  eat 
wasn't  worth  eating.  Fish  of  the  very  best,  both 
salt  and  fresh,  chickens,  eggs,  milk  and  the  invinci- 
ble, never-satisfying  ash-cake  and  fried  bacon.  1  see 
the  frying-pan,  I  smell  the  mea,t,  the  fish,  the  Rio 
coffee ! — I  want  the  batteau  back  again,  aye !  and  the 
brave,  light-hearted  slave  to  boot.  What  did  he 
know  about  the  State  debt?  There  was  no  State 
debt  to  speak  of.  Greenbacks?  Bless,  you!  the 
Farmers  Bank  of  Virginia  was  living  and  breathing, 
and  its  money  was  good  enough  for  a  king.  Re- 
adjustment, funding  bill,  tax-receivable  coupons — 
where  were  all  these  worries  then?  I  think  if  we 
had  known  they  were  coming,  we  would  have  stuck 
to  the  batteaux  and  never  dammed  the  river.  Why, 
shad  used  to  run  to  Lynchburg!  The  world  was 
merry,  butter-milk  was  abundant;  Lynchburg  a  lad, 


12      .  Canal  Reminiscences. 

Richmond  a  mere  youth,  and  the  great  "  Jeems  and 
Kanawha  canell "  was  going  to — oh !  it  was  going  to 
do  everything. 

This  was  forty  years  ago  and  more,  mark  you. 

In  1838,  I  made  my  first  trip  to  Richmond. 
What  visions  of  grandeur  filled  my  youthful  imagi- 
nation! That  eventually  I  should  get  to  be  a  man 
seemed  probable,  but  that  I  should  ever  be  big 
enough  to  live,  actually  live,  in  the  vast  metropolis, 
was  beyond  my  dreams.  For  I  believed  fully  that 
men  were  proportioned  to  the  size  of  the  cities  they 
lived  in.  I  had  seen  a  man  named'  Hatcher  from 
Cartersville,  who  was  near  about  the  size  of  the  average 
man  in  Lynchburg,  but  as  I  had  never  seen  Carters- 
ville, I  concluded,  naturally  enough,  that  Cartersville 
must  be  equal  in  population.  Which  may  be  the 
fact,  for  I  have  never  yet  seen  Cartersville,  though  I 
have  been  to  Warminster,  and  once  came  near  pass- 
ing through  Bent-Creek. 

I  went  by  stage. 


Canal  Reminiscences.  13 

It  took  two  days  to  make  the  trip,  yet  no  one  com- 
plained, although  there  were  many  Methodist  minis- 
ters aboard.  Bro.  Lafferty  had  not  been  born.  I 
thought  it  simply  glorious.  There  was  an  unnatu- 
ral preponderance  of  preacher  to  boy, — nine  of 
preacher  to  one  of  boy.  That  boy  did  not  take  a 
leading  part  in  the  conversation.  He  looked  out  of 
the  window,  and  thought  much  about  Richmond. 
And  what  a  wonderful  world  it  was !  So  many  trees, 
such  nice  rocks,  and  pretty  ruts  in  the  red  clay;  such 
glorious  taverns,  and  men  with  red  noses;  such 
splendid  horses,  a  fresh  team  every  ten  miles,  and 
an  elegant  smell  of  leather,  proceeding  from  the  coach, 
prevailing  everywhere  as  we  bowled  merrily  along. 
And  then  the  stage  horn.  Let  me  not  speak  of  it, 
lest  Thomas  and  his  orchestra  hang  their  heads  for 
very  shame.  I  wish  somebody  wTould  tell  me  where 
we  stopped  the  first  night,  for  I  have  quite  forgotten. 
Any  how,  it  was  on  the  left-hand  side  coming  down, 


14  Canal  Reminiscences. 

and  I  rather  think  on  the  brow  of  a  little  hill.  I 
know  we  got  up  mighty  soon  the  next  morning. 

We  drew  up  at  the  Eagle  hotel  in  Richmond. 
Here  again  words,  and  time  too,  fail  me.  All  the 
cities  on  earth  packed  into  one  wouldn't  look  as  big 
and  fine  to  me  now  as  Main  street  did  then.  If 
things  shrink  so  in  the  brief  space  of  a  life-time, 
what  would  be  the  general  appearance,  say  of  Peters- 
burg, if  one  should  live  a  million  or  so  of  years  ?  This 
is  an  interesting  question,  which  you  may  discuss 
with  yourself,  dear  reader. 

Going  northward,  I  remained  a  year  or  two,  and 
-on  my  return  the  "canell"  was  finished.  I  had  seen 
bigger  places  than  Richmond,  but  had  yet  to  have 
my  first  experience  of  canal  travelling.  The  packet- 
landing  at  the  foot  of  Eighth  street  presented  a  scene 
of  great  activity.  Passengers  on  foot  and  in  vehicles 
continued  to  arrive  up  to  the  moment  of  starting.  I 
took  a  peep  at  the  cabin,  wondering  much  how  all 
the  passengers  were  to   be  accommodated   for   the 


Canal  Reminiscences.  15 

night,  saw  how  nicely  the  baggage  was  stored  away  on 
deck,  admired  the  smart  waiters,  and  picked  up  a  deal 
of  information  generally.  I  became  acquainted  with 
the  names  of  Edmond  &  Davenport  in  Richmond, 
and  Boyd,  Edmond  &  Davenport  in  Lynchburg,  the 
owners  of  the  Vpacket-line,  and  thought  to  myself, 
"  What  immensely  rich  men  they  must  be !  Why, 
these  boats  cost  ten  times  as  much  as  a  stage-coach, 
and  I  am  told  they  have  them  by  the  dozen." 

At  last  we  were  off,  slowly  pushed  along  under 
the  bridge  on  Seventh  street;  then  the  horses  were 
hitched ;  then  slowly  along  till  we  passed  the  crowd 
of  boats  near  the  city,  until  at  length,  with  a  lively 
jerk  as  the  horses  fell  into  a  trot,  away  we  went,  the 
cut-water  throwing  up  the  spray  as  we  rounded  the 
Penitentiary  hill,  and  the  passengers  lingering  on 
deck  to  get;  a  last  look  at  the  fair  city  of  Richmond, 
lighted  by  the  pale  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

As  the  shadows  deepened,  everybody  went  below. 
There  was  always  a  crowd  in  those  days,  but  it  was  a. 


16  Canal  Reminiscences. 

crowd  for  the  most  part  of  our  best  people,  and  no 
one  minded  it.  I  was  little,  and  it  took  little  room 
to  accommodate  me.  Everything  seemed  as  cozy 
and  comfortable  as  heart  could  wish.  I  brought  to 
the  table, — an  excellent  one  it  was, — a  school  boy's  ap- 
petite, sharpened  by  travel,  and  thought  it  was  "just 
splendid." 

Supper  over,  the  men  went  on  deck  to  smoke, 
while  the  ladies  busied  themselves  with  draughts  or 
backgammon,  with  conversation  or  with  books.  But 
not  for  long.  The  curtains  which  separated  the 
.female  from  the  male  department  were  soon  drawn, 
in  order  that  the  steward  and  his  aids  might  make 
ready  the  berths.  These  were  three  deep,  "  lower," 
"middle"  and  "upper;"  and  great  was  the  desire  on 
the  part  of  the  men  not  to  be  consigned  to  the 
"  upper."  Being  light  as  a  cork,  I  rose  naturally  to 
the  top,  clambering  thither  by  the  leathern  straps  with 
the  agility  of  a  monkey,  and  enjoying  as  best  I  might 
the   trampling   overhead    whenever  we   approached 


Canal  Reminiscences.  IT 

a  lock.  I  didn't  mind  this  much,  but  when  the  fel- 
low who  had  snubbed  the  boat  jumped  down  about 
four  feet,  right  on  my  head  as  it  were,  it  was  pretty 
severe.  Still  I  slept  the  sleep  of  youth.  We  all 
went  to  bed  early.  A  few  lingered,  talking  in  low 
tones ;  and  way-passengers,  in  case  there  was  a  crowd, 
were  dumped  upon  mattresses,  placed  on  the  dining 
tables. 

The  lamp  shed  a  dim  light  over  the  sleepers,  and 
all  went  well  till  some  one — and  there  always  was 
some  one — began  to  snore.  Sn-a-a-  aw  ! — aw-aw-poof! 
They  would  turn  uneasily  and  try  to  compose  them- 
selves  to    slumber    again.      No    use.      Sn-a-a-aw — 

poof/   "D that  fellow!      Chunk  him  in  the 

ribs,  somebody,  and  make  him  turn  over.  Is  this 
thing  to  go  on  forever?  Gentlemen,  are  you  going 
to  stand  this  all  night?  If  you  are,  I  am  not.  £ 
am  going  to  get  up  and  dress.  Who  is  he  anyhow  ? 
JSTo  gentleman  would  or  could  snore  in  that  way." 

After  a  while  silence  would  be  restored,  and  all 


18  Canal  Reminiscences. 

would  drop  off  to  sleep  again,  except  the  little  fellow 
in  the  upper  berth,  who  lying  there  would  listen  to 
the  trahn-ahn-ahn-ahn  of  the  packet-horn  as  we 
drew  nigh  the  locks.  How  mournfully  it  sounded 
in  the  night !  what  a  doleful  thing  it  is  at  best,  and 
how  different  from  the  stage-horn  with  its  cheery, 
ringing  notes!  The  difference  in  the  horns  marks 
the  difference  in  the  two  eras  of  travel ;  not  that  the 
canal  period  is  doleful — I  would  not  say  that,  but  it 
is  less  bright  than  the  period  of  the  stage-coach. 

To  this  day  you  have  only  to  say  within  my  hear- 
ing trahn-ahn-ahn,  to  bring  back  the  canal  epoch.  I 
can  see  the  whole  thing  down  to  the  snubbing  post 
with  its  deep  grooves  which  the  heavy  rope  had 
worn.  Indeed,  I  think  I  could  snub  a  boat  myself 
with  very  little  practice,  if  the  man  on  deck  would 

say  "hup I"  to  the  horses  at  the  proper  time. 
i 

We  turned  out  early  in  the  morning,  and  had  pre- 
cious little  room  for  dressing.  But  that  was  no  hard- 
ship to  me,  who  had  just  emerged  from  a  big  board- 


Canal  Reminiscences.  19 

ing  school  dormitory.  Still,  I  must  say,  being  now  a 
grown  and  oldish  man,  that  1  would  not  like  to  live 
and  sleep  and  dress  for  twenty  or  thirty  years  in  the 
cabin  of  a  canal-packet.  The  ceremony  of  ablution 
was  performed  in  a  primitive  fashion.  There  were 
the  tin  basins,  the  big  tin  dipper  with  the  long  wooden 
handle.  I  feel  it  vibrating  in  the  water  now,  and 
the  water  a  little  muddy  generally;  and  there  were 
the  towels,  a  big  one  on  a  roller,  and  the  little  ones 
in  a  pile,  and  all  of  them  wet.  These  were  discom- 
forts, it  is  true,  but,  pshaw !  one  good,  big,  long,  deep 
draught  of  pure,  fresh  morning  air — one  glimpse  of 
the  roseate  flush  above  the  wooded  hills  of  the  James, 
one  look  at  the  dew  besprent  bushes  and  vines  along 
the  canal  bank — one  sweet  caress  of  dear  mother 
nature  in  her  morning  robes,  made  ample  compen- 
sation for  them  all.  Breakfast  was  soon  served,  and 
all  the  more  enjoyed  in  consequence  of  an  hour's  fast- 
ing on  deck ;  the  sun  came  out  in  all  his  splendor  ; 
the  day  was  fairly  set  in,  and  with  it  there  was  abun- 


"20  Canal  Reminiscences. 

dant  leisure  to  enjoy  the  scenery,  that  grew  more  and 
more  captivating  as  we  rose,  lock  after  lock,  into  the 
rock-bound  eminences  of  the  upper  James.  This 
scenery  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe,  for  time  has 
sadly  dimmed  it  in  my  recollection.  The  wealth  of 
the  lowlands,  and  the  upland  beauty  must  be  seen  as 
I  have  seen  them,  in  the  day  of  their  prime,  to  be  en- 
joyed. 

The  perfect  cultivation,  the  abundance,  the  elegance, 
the  ducal  splendor,  one  might  almost  say,  of  the  great 
estates  that  lay  along  the  canal  in  the  old  days  have 
passed  away  in  a  great  measure.  Here  were  gentle- 
men, not  merely  refined  and  educated,  fitted  to  dis- 
play a  royal  hospitality  and  to  devote  their  leisure 
to  the  study  of  the  art  and  practice  of  government, 
but  they  were  great  and  greatly  successful  farmers 
as  well.  The  land  teemed  with  all  manner  of  pro- 
ducts, cereals,  fruits,  what  not !  negroes  by  the  hun- 
dreds and  the  thousands,  under  wise  direction,  gen- 
tle but  firm  control,  plied  the  hoe  to  good  purpose. 


Canal  Reminiscences.  21 

There  was  enough  and  to  spare  for  all — to  spare  ? 
aye  !  to  bestow  with  glad  and  lavish  hospitality.  A 
mighty  change  has  been  wrought.  What  that  change 
is  in  all  of  its  effects  mine  eyes  have  happily  been 
spared  the  seeing ;  but  well  I  remember — I  can  never 
forget — how  from  time  to  time  the  boat  would  stop 
at  one  of  these  estates,  and  the  planter,  his  wife,  his 
•daughters,  and  the  guests  that  were  going  home  with 
him,  would  be  met  by  those  who  had  remained  be- 
hind, and  how  joyous  the  greetings  were!  It  was  a 
bright  and  happy  scene,  and  it  continually  repeated 
itself  as  we  went  onward. 

In  fine  summer  weather,  the  passengers,  male  and 
female,  stayed  most  of  the  time  on  deck,  where  there 
was  a  great  deal  to  interest,  and  naught  to  mar 
the  happiness,  except  the  oft-repeated  warning, 
"oraidge!"  "low  braidge!"  No  well-regulated 
packet-hand  was  ever  allowed  to  say  plain  "  bridge;" 
that  was  an  etymological  crime  in  canal  ethics.  For 
the  men,  this  on-deck  existence  wTas  especially  de- 


22  Canal  Reminiscences. 

lightful;  it  is  such  a  comfort  to  spit  plump  into  the 
water  without  the  trouble  of  feeling  around  with 
your  head,  in  the  midst  of  a  political  discussion,  for 
the  spittoon. 

As  for  me,  I  often  went  below,  to  devour  Dickens's 
earlier  novels,  which  were  then  appearing  in  rapid 
succession.  But,  drawn  by  the  charm  of  the  scenery, 
I  would  often  drop  my  book  and  go  back  on  deck 
again.  There  was  an  islet  in  the  river — where,  ex- 
actly, I  cannot  tell — which  had  a  beauty  of  its  own 
for  me,  because  from  the  moment  I  first  saw  it,  my 
purpose  was  to  make  it  the  scene  of  a  romance,  when 
I  got  to  be  a  great  big  man,  old  enough  to  write 
for  the  papers.  There  is  a  point  at  which  the  pas- 
sengers would  get  off,  and  taking  a  near  cut  across 
the  hills,  would  stretch  their  legs  with  a  mile  or  two 
of  walking.  It  was  unmanly,  I  held,  to  miss  that. 
Apropos  of  scenery,  I  must  not  forget  the  haunted 
house  near  Manchester,  which  was  pointed  out  soon 
after  we  left  Richmond,  and  filled  me  with  awe;  for 


Canal  Reminiscences.  23 


though  I  said  I  did  not  believe  in  ghosts,  I  did.  The 
ruined  mill,  a  mile  or  two  further,  on  was  always  an 
object  of  melancholy  interest  to  me ;  and  of  all  the 
locks  from  Lynchburg  down,  the  Three-Mile  Locks 
pleased  me  most.  It  is  a  pretty  place,  as  every  one 
will  own  on  seeing  it.  It  was  so  clean  and  green, 
and  white  and  thrifty-looking.  To  me  it  was  simply 
beautiful.  I  wanted  to  live  there ;  I  ought  to  have 
lived  there.  I  was  built  for  a  lock-keeper — have  that 
exact  moral  and  mental  shape.  Ah!  to  own  your 
own  negro,  who  would  do  all  the  drudgery  of  open- 
ing the  gates.  Occasionally  you  would  go  through 
the  form'  of  putting  your  shoulder  to  the  huge 
wooden  levers,  if  that  is  what  they  call  them,  by 
which  the  gates  are  opened :  to  own  your  own  negro 
and  live  and  die  calmly  at  a  lock!  What  more 
could  the  soul  ask?  I  do  think  that  the  finest  pic- 
ture extant  of  peace  and  contentment — a  little  ab- 
normal, perhaps,  in  the  position  of  the  animal — is 
that  of  a  sick  mule  looking  out  of  the  window  of  a 


24  Canal  Reminiscences. 



canal  freight-boat.  And  that  you  could  see  every  day 
from  the  porch  of  your  cottage,  if  you  lived  at  a 
lock,  owned  your  own  negro,  and  there  was  no 
great  rush  of  business  on  the  canal,  (and  there  sel- 
dom was)  on  the  "  Jeeins  and  Kanawhy,"  as  old  " 
Capt.  Sam  Wyatt  always  called  it,  leaving  out  the 
word  "canal,"  for  that  was  understood.  Yes,  one 
ought  to  live  as  a  pure  and  resigned  lock-keeper,  if 
one  would  be  blest,  really  blest. 

Now  that  I  am  on  the  back  track,  let  me  add  that, 
however  bold  and  picturesque  the  cliffs  and  bluffs 
near  Lynchburg  and  beyond,  there  was  nothing  from 
one  end  the  canal  to  the  other  to  compare  with  the 
first  sight  of  Richmond,  when,  rounding  a  corner  not 
far  from  Hollywood,  it  burst  full  upon  the  vision,  its 
capitol,  its  spires,  its  happy  homes,  flushed  with  the 
red  glow  of  evening.  And  what  it  looked  to  be,  it 
was.  Its  interior,  far  from  belieing  its  exterior, 
surpassed  it.  The  world  over,  there  is  no  lovelier 
site  for  a  city ;  and  the  world  over  there  was  no  city 


Canal  Reminiscences.  25 

that  quite  equalled  it  in  the  charm  of  its  hospitality, 
its  refinement,  its  intelligence,  its  cordial  welcome  to 
strangers.  Few  of  its  inhabitants  were  very  rich, 
fewer  still  were  very  poor.  But  I  must  not  dwell  on 
this.  Beautiful  city !  beautiful  city !  you  may  grow  to 
be  as  populous  as  London,  and  sure  no  one  wishes  you 
greater  prosperity  than  I,  but  grow  as  you  may,  you 
can  never  be  happier  than  you  were  in  the  days 
whereof  I  speak.  How  your  picture  comes  back  to 
me,  softened  by  time,  glorified  by  all  the  tender,  glow- 
ing tints  of  memory.  Around  you  now  is  the  added 
glory  of  history,  a  defence  almost  unrivalled  in  the 
annals  of  warfare;  but  for  me  there  is  something 
even  brighter  than  historic  fame,  a  hue  derived  only 
from  the  heaven  of  memory.  In  my  childhood,  when 
all  things  were  beautified  by  the  unclouded  light  of 
"  the  young  soul  wandering  here  in  nature,"  I  saw 
you  in  your  youth,  full  of  hope,  full  of  promise, 
full  of  all  those  gracious  influences  which  made  your 
State  greatest  among  all  her  sisters,  and  which  seemed 


26  Canal  Rerniniscences. 

concentrated  in  yourself.     Be  your  maturity  what  it 
may,  it  can  never  be  brighter  than  this. 

To  return  to  the  boat.  All  the  scenery  in  the 
world — rocks  that  Salvator  would  love  to  paint,  and 
skies  that  Claude  could  never  limn — all  the  facilities 
for  spitting  that  earth  affords,  avail  not  to  keep  a 
Yirginian  away  from  a  julep  on  a  hot  summer  day. 
From  time  to  time  he  would  descend  from  the  deck 
of  the  packet  and  refresh  himself.  The  bar  was 
small,  but  vigorous  and  healthy.  I  was  then  in  the 
lemonade  stage  of  boyhood,  and  it  was  not  until 
many  years  afterwards  that  I  rose  through  porterees 
and  claret-punches  to  the  sublimity  of  the  sherry 
cobbler,  and  discovered  that  the  packet  bar  supplied 
genuine  Havana  cigars  at  fourpence-ha'penny. 
Why,  eggs  were  but  sixpence  a  dozen  on  the  canal 
bank,  and  the  national  debt  wouldn't  have  filled  a 
tea-cup.  Internal  revenue  was  unknown ;  the  cou- 
pons receivable  for  taxes  inconceivable,  and  forcible 
readjustment  a  thing  undreamt  of  in  Yirginian  philo- 


Canal  Reminiscences.  27 

sophy.  Mr.  Mallock's  pregnant  question,  "  Is  life 
worth  living  ?"  was  answered  very  satisfactorily,  me- 
thought,  as  I  watched  the  Virginians  at  their  juleps: 
"Gentlemen,  your  very  good  health;"  "Colonel, 
my  respects  to  you  ;"  "  My  regards,  Judge.  When 
shall  I  see  you  again  at  my  house  ?  Can't  you'  stop 
now  and  stay  a  little  while,  if  it  is  only  a  week  or 
two  ?"  "  Sam,"  (to  the  bar-keeper,)  "  duplicate  these 
drinks." 

How  they  smacked  their  lips ;  how  hot  the  talk 
on  politics  became ;  and  how  pernicious  this  example 
of  drinking  in  public  was  to  the  boy  who  looked  on  ! 
Oh  !  yes ;  and  if  you  expect  your  son  to  go  through 
life  without  bad  examples  set  him  by  his  elders  in  a 
thousand  ways,  you  must  take  him  to  another  sphere. 
Still,  the  fewer  bad  examples  the  better,  and  you,  at 
least,  need  not  set  them. 

Travelling  always  with  my  father,  who  was  a  mer- 
chant, it  was  natural  that  I  should  become  acquainted 
with  merchants.     But  I  remember  very  few  of  them. 


28  Canal  'Reminiscences. 

Mr.  Daniel  H.  London,  who  was  a  character,  and 
Mr.  Fleming  James,  who  often  visited  his  estate  in 
Roanoke,  and  was  more  of  a  character  than  London, 
I  recall  quite  vividly.  I  remember,  too,  Mr.  Francis  B. 
Deane,  who  was  always  talking  about  Mobjack  Bay, 
and  who  was  yet  to  build  the  Langhorne  Foundry 
in  Lynchburg.  I  thought  if  I  could  just  see  Mob- 
jack  Bay,  I  would  be  happy.  According  to  Mr. 
Deane,  and  I  agreed  with  him,  there  ought  by  this 
time  to  have  been  a  great  city  on  Mobjack  Bay.  I 
saw  Mobjack  Bay  last  summer,  and  was  happy. 
Any  man  who  goes  to  Gloucester  will  be  happy. 
More  marked  than  all  of  these  characters  was  Major 
Yancey,  of  Buckingham,  "the  wheel-horse  of  De- 
mocracy," he  was  called ;  Tim.  Hives,  of  Prince 
George,  whose  face,  some  said,  resembled  the  inside 
of  a  gunlock,  being  the  war-horse.  Major  Y.'s  stout 
figure,  florid  face,  and  animated,  forcible  manner, 
come  back  with  some  distinctness ;  and  there  are 
other  forms,  but  they  are  merely  outlines  barely  dis- 


Canal  Reminiscences.  29 

cernible.  So  pass  away  men  who,  in  their  day,  were 
names  and  powers — shadows  gone  into  shadow-land, 
leaving  but  a  dim  print  upon  a  few  brains,  which  in 
time  will  soon  flit  away. 

Arrived  in  Lynchburg,  the  effect  of  the  canal  was 
soon  seen  iti  the  array  of  freight  boats,  the  activity 
and  bustle  at  the  packet  landing.  New  names  and 
new  faces,  from  the  canal  region  of  New  York,  most 
likely,  were  seen  and  heard.  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  family  of  Capt.  Huntley,  who  commanded 
one  of  the  boats,  and  was  for  some  years  quite  inti- 
mate with  his  pretty  daughters,  Lizzie,  Harriet  and 
Emma.  Capt.  H.  lived  on  Church  street,  next  door 
to  the  Reformed,  or  as  it  was  then  called,  the  Radi- 
cal Methodist  Church,  and  nearly  opposite  to  Mr. 
Peleg  Seabury.  He  was  for  a  time  connected  in 
some  way  with  the  Exchange  hotel,  but  removed 
with  his  family  to  Cincinnati,  since  when  I  have 
never  but  once  heard  of  them.  Where  are  they  all, 
I  wonder?      Then,    there  was  a  Mr.  Watson,  who 


30  Canal  Reminiscences. 

lived    with    Boyd,  Edmond    &  Davenport,  married 

first  a.  Miss  ,  and  afterwards,  Mrs.  Christian, 

went  into  the  tobacco  business  in  Brooklyn,  then 
disappeared,  leaving  no  trace,  not  the  slightest.  Then 
there  was  a  rare  fellow,  Charles  Buckley,  who  lived 
in  the  same  store  with  Watson,  had  a  fine  voice,  and 
without  a  particle  of  religion  in  the  ordinary  sense, 
loved  dearly  to  sing  at  revivals.  I  went  with  him ; 
we  took  back  seats,  and  sang  with  great  fer- 
vor. This  was  at  night.  Besides  Captain  Hunt- 
ley, I  remember  among  the  captains  of  a  later 
date,  Captain  Jack  Yeatman;  and  at  a  date 
still  later  his  brother,  Captain  C.  E.  Yeatman, 
both  of  whom  are  still  living.  There  was  still 
another  captain  whose  name  was  Love some- 
thing, a  very  handsome  man ;  and  these   are  all. 

In  1849,  having  graduated  in  Philadelphia,  I 
made  one  of  my  last  through-trips  on  the  canal,  the 
happy  owner  of  a  diploma  in  a  green  tin  case,  and 
the  utterly  miserable  possessor  of  a  dyspepsia  which 


Canal  Reminiscences.  31 

threatened  my  life.  I  enjoyed  the  night  on  deck, 
sick  as  I  was.  The  owl's  "long  hoot,"  the  "plain- 
tive cry  of  the  whippoorwill;  "  the  melody — for  it  is 
by  association  a  melody,  which  the  Greeks  have  but 
travestied  with  their  brek-ke-ex,  ko-ex — of  the  frogs,  the 
mingled  hum  of  insect  life,  the  "  stilly  sound"  of  in- 
animate nature,  the  soft  respiration  of  sleeping  earth, 
and  above  all,  the  ineffable  glory  of  the  stars.  Oh ! 
heaven  of  heavens,  into  which  the  sick  boy,  lying 
alone  on  deck,  then  looked,  has  thy  charm  fled, 
too,  with  so  many  other  charms  ?  Have  thirty  years 
of  suffering,  of  thought,  of  book-reading,  brougth 
only  the  unconsoling  knowledge,  that  yonder  twink- 
ling sparks  of  far-off  fire  are  not  lamps  that  light 
the  portals  of  the  palace  of  the  King  and  Father,  but 
suns  like  our  sun,  surrounded  by  earths  full  of  woe 
and  doubt  like  our  own  ;  and  that  heaven,  if  heaven 
there  be,  is  not  in  the  sky ;  not  in  space,  vast  as  it  is ; 
not  in  time,  endless  though  it  be — where  then? 
"  Near  thee,  in  thy  heart ! "     Who  feels  this,  who 


32  Canal  Reminiscences. 

will  say  this  of  himself  ?  Away  thou  gray-haired, 
sunken-cheeked  sceptic,  away  !  Come  back  to  me, 
come  back  to  me,  wan  youth ;  there  on  that  deck, 
with  the  treasure  of  thy  faith,  thy  trust  in  men,  thy 
worship  of  womankind,  thy  hope,  that  sickness 
could  not  chill,  in  the  sweet  possibilities  of  life. 
Come  back  to  me ! — 'Tis  a  vain  cry.  The  youth  lies 
there  on  the  packet's  deck,  looking  upward  to  the 
stars,  and  he  will  not  return. 

The  trip  in  1849  was  a  dreary  one  until  there  came 
aboard  a  dear  lady  friend  of  mine  who  had  recently 
been  married.  I  had  not  had  a  good  honest  talk 
with  a  girl  for  eighteen  solid — I  think  I  had  better 
say  long,  (we  always  say  long  when  speaking  of  the 
war) — ufo'  long  years!" — I  have  heard  it  a  thousand 
times — for  eighteen  long  months,  and  you  may  im- 
agine how  I  enjoyed  the  conversation  with  my  friend. 
She  wasn't  very  pretty,  and  her  husband  was  a  Louisa 
man;  but  her  talk,  full  of  good  heart  and  good  sense, 
put  new  life  into  me.     One  other  through  trip,  the 


Canal  Reminiscences.  33 

very  last,  I  made  in  1851.  On  my  return  in  1853, 
I  went  by  rail  as  far  as  Farmville,  and  thence  by 
stage  to  Lynchburg ;  so  that,  for  purposes  of  through 
travel,  the  canal  lasted,  one  may  say,  only  ten  or  a 
dozen  years.  And  now  the  canal,  after  a  fair  and 
costly  trial,  is  to  give  place  to  the  rail,  and  I,  in  com- 
mon with  the  great  body  of  Virginians,  am  heartily 
glad  of  it.  It  has  served  its  purpose  well  enough, 
perhaps,  for  its  day  and  generation.  The  world  has 
passed  by  it,  as  it  has  passed  by  slavery.  Henceforth 
Virginia  must  prove  her  .metal  in  the  front  of  steam, 
electricity,  and  possibly  mightier  forces  still.  If  she 
can't  hold  her  own  in  their  presence,  she  must  go 
under.  I  believe  she  will  hold  her  own ;  these  very 
forces  will  help  her.  The  dream  of  the  great  canal 
to  the  Ohio,  with  its-nine  mile  tunnel,  costing  fifty 
or  more  millions,  furnished  by  the  general  govern- 
ment, and  revolutionizing  the  commerce  of  the 
United  States,  much  as  the  discovery  of  America 
and  opening  of  the  Suez  canal  revolutionized  the 


34  Canal  Reminiscences. 

commerce  of  the  world,  must  be  abandoned  along 
with  other  dreams. 

One  cannot  withhold  admiration  from  President 
Johnston  and  other  officers  of  the  canal,  who  made 
such  a  manful  struggle  to  save  it.  But  who  can 
war  against  the  elements  ?  Nature  herself,  imitating 
man,  seems  to  have  taken  special  delight  in  kicking 
the  canal  after  it  was  down.  So  it  must  go.  Well, 
let  it  go.  It  knew  Virginia  in  her  palmiest  days 
and  it  crushed  the  stage  coach ;  isn't  that  glory 
enough?  I  think  it  is.  But  I  can't  help  feeling 
sorry  for  the  bull  frogs;  there  must  be  a  good  many 
of  them  between  here  and  Lexington.  What  will 
become,  of  them,  I  wonder?  They  will  follow  their 
predecessors,  the  batteaux;  and  their  pale,  green 
ghosts,  seated  on  the  prows  of  shadowy  barges,  will  be 
heard  piping  the  roundelays  of  long-departed  joys. 

Farewell  canal,  frogs,  musk-rats,  mules,  packet- 
horns  and  all,  a  long  farewell.  Welcome  the  rail 
along  the  winding  valleys  of  the  James.    Wake  up, 


Canal  Reminiscences.  35 

Fluvanna!  Arise,  old  Buckingham!  Exalt  thyself, 
0  Goochland!  And  thou,  O  Powhatan,  be  not 
afraid  nor  shame-faced  any  longer,  but  raise  thy 
Ebenezer  freely,  for  the  day  of  thy  redemption  is  at 
hand.  Willis  J.  Dance  shall  rejoice ;  yea,  ¥m.  Pope 
Dabney  shall  be  exceeding  glad.  And  all  hail  our 
long  lost  brother!  come  to  these  empty,  aching,  arms, 
dear  Lynch' s  Ferry  ! 

I  have  always  thought  that  the  unnatural  separa- 
tion between  Lynchburg  and  Richmond  was  the 
source  of  all  our  troubles.  In  some  way,  not  entirely 
clear  to  me,  it  brought  on  the  late  war,  and  it  will 
bring  on  another,  if  a  reunion  between  the  two  cities' 
does  not  soon  take  place.  Baltimore,  that  pretty 
and  attractive,  but  meddlesome  vixen,  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it  all.  Richmond  will  not  fear  Baltimore 
after  the  rails  are  laid.  Her  prosperity  will  date 
anew  from  the  time  of  her  iron  wedding  with  Lynch- 
burg. We  shall  see  her  merchants  on  our  streets 
again,  and  see  them  often.    That  will  be  a  better  day.. 


36  Canal  Reminiscences. 

Alas!  there  are  many  we  shall  not  see.  John 
G-.  Meem,  Sam'l  McCorkle,  John  Robin  McDaniel, 
John  Hollins,  Chas.  Phelps,  Jno.  R.  D.  Payne,  Jehu 
Williams,  Ambrose  Rucker,  Wilson  P.  Bryant,  (who 
died  the  other  day;)  and  many,  many  others  will  not 
come  to  Richmond  any  more.  They  are  gone.  And 
if  they  came,  they  would  not  meet  the  men  they  used 
to  meet;  very  few  of  them  at  least.  Jacquelin  P. 
Taylor,  John  JST.  Gordon,  Thos.  R.  Price,  Lewis  D. 
Crenshaw,  James  Dunlop — why  add  to  the  list  ? 
They  too  are  gone. 

But  the  sons  of  the  old-time  merchants  of  Lynch- 
burg will  meet  here  the  sons  of  the  old-time  mer- 
chants of  Richmond,  and  the  meeting  of  the  two, 
the  mingling  of  the  waters— Blackwater  creek  with  Ba- 
con Quarter  branch — deuce  take  it!  I  have  gone  off 
on  the  water  line  again — the  admixture,  I  should  say, 
of  the  sills  of  Campbell  with  the  spikes  of  Henrico, 
the  readjustment,  so  to  speak,  of  the  ties  (R.  R.  ties) 
that  bind  us,  will  more  than  atone  for  the  obsolete 


Canal  Reminiscences.  37 

canal,  and  draw  us  all  the  closer  by  reason  of  our  long 
separation  and  estrangement.  Richmond  and  Lynch- 
burg united  will  go  onward  and  upward  in  a  common 
career  of  glory  and  prosperity.  And  is  there,  can 
there  be,  a  Virginian,  deserving  the  name,  who  would 
envy  that  glory,  or  for  a  moment  retard  that  pros- 
perity %     Not  one,  I  am  sure. 

Allow  me,  now  that  my  reminiscences  are  ended, 
allow  me,  as  an  old  stager  and  packet-horn  reverer, 
one  last  Parthian  shot.  It  is  this:  If  the  James  river 
does  not  behave  better  hereafter  than  it  has  done  of 
late,  the  railroad  will  have  to  be  suspended  in  mid- 
heaven  by  means  of  a  series  of  stationary  balloons ;, 
travelling  then  may  be  a  little  wabbly,  but  at  all 
events,  it  won't  be  wet. 

G.  W.  BAGBY. 


